Towards the end of his nearly 11-year Radio 2 hegemony on Saturday, Jonathan Ross played Creep by Radiohead. You can't help but note the words. Thom Yorke has such nice diction. "I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here." What a final statement, from a man whose entire shtick is that he's in his element everywhere. "That wasn't some big final statement, by the way," Ross cut in. Oh, OK. Reconfigure: he is not in torment. He just likes perfect songs, and who doesn't?

I thought there was mischief in Ross's programming – inviting Jedward on, for instance. He must be the first, last, only broadcaster in the country who could turn this into radio, the nattering of two colourless brothers whose sole point of interest is that they both sound like women. The overriding tone was not puckish, though – it was more a confident, "I did a good job" finality. I suppose it was a bit puzzling – why would you, as the star, want to be the person who told the world you'd changed the airwaves? Wouldn't you want to wait until someone else said it? It's a bit like making your own speech at your leaving party. But of course he's right, he did do something large and worthwhile, of which the relentless playing of David Bowie was but a small yet memorable part. The final song, Drive-in Saturday, made me feel a bit tearful. For the noughties as much as for the end of BBC Ross.